I was in the Las Vegas airport waiting for my flight home when "incoming call" appeared on my blackberry. A call from one of the twins. My kids mostly text, so when they actually use the phone function on their phones (?!) I am always filled with anticipation and dread, but mostly dread.
"Dad?" "Where's the snake stick?". For those of you who don't know what that is, it's a broom handle with an aircraft cable attached that has a loop in it. The cable runs through a hole in the end so that the cable can be pulled tight and make a noose around a snake. Good tool for our area, as we have Diamondbacks. We have one stick in the backyard, and another one by the garage door.
"Why?" I asked. "There's a snake in the house" was his answer. "Where's mom?" (Really important to get a clear picture of her state of mind. Might not have to get on the plane, if you know what I mean). She was out, and the snake was in, so I gave him the following instructions:
1. Get the stick.
2. Get the snake.
3. Get rid of the snake.
4. Put away the stick.
5. DON'T TELL MOM!
It turns out it was just a normal snake, and it was escorted out, but the critical part of the story is that mom doesn't find out. I don't want to move again.
If someone dressed you up like this, wouldn't you bite them? what is the thinking here? Isn't it bad enough that the poor puppy is small enough to be crushed with one misstep? That his fur is less than perfect? I feel bad for him. I wouldn't dress up like that myself (might have in college; no clear recollection). 
